


kaffekarsk

by gruhukens



Category: Dark Matter - Michelle Paver
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, actually a tiny teashop au!!, also really really awkward, gus is charming and bashful, jack is entirely too serious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 08:57:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gruhukens/pseuds/gruhukens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack is a hardworking student and part-time whatever the tea equivalent of barista is. Gus is a student who is entirely too cheerful for his own good. Entirely no ghosts are involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	kaffekarsk

**Author's Note:**

> i think there's some kind of rule requiring a coffeeshop au [of kinds] for every fandom?? either that or i... just wanted... to write fluff for these two...
> 
> maybe i'll actually get around to including eriksson and algie and hugh one of these days who knows
> 
> oh yeah, disclaimer: my poor and penniless soul has never really set foot in a tea or coffee shop. uh.

Gus first walks through the door of Brewhukens on a Jaunary morning, trailing cold and slush and a banal geniality entirely inappropriate for the early hour.

Jack is, as per usual, not standing in place behind the counter. He’s lost count of the amount of times Eriksson has reamed him out for this – ‘a university student, a young gentlemen’, he says, sternly, ‘I would think would like to keep his job and not be fired,’ - but it's January, there are no customers, and he’s got six exams and two essays over the next eight days. Instead of keeping shop, he’s hiding in the warmer back room with two mugs of coffee and writing up a paper on the Michelson-Morely experiment. The ring of the shop door opening goes entirely over his head.

'Hello,' Gus calls from the front of shop. 'Hello? Is anyone here?'

 _Shit._  Jack pops his head out from the back. ‘Be with you in a minute!’

There’s a sound of affirmation from the counter while Jack quickly extricates himself from his work notes and the extra coffee stock that’s haphazardly stacked all over the back room. Eriksson, while a great and lenient boss, is completely useless at cleaning up, Algie argues that he doesn’t get paid enough to declutter, and Jack’s working every spare second he’s got, so moving around in the breakroom is always an exercise in navigation. Dusting off coffee grinds and mug in hand, Jack rounds the corner to the front of shop.

All he can see is the back of Gus’ blond head – he’s not standing by the counter to be served, but instead bending over to peer at a tiny faded photograph, one of the collectibles Eriksson likes to keep scattered around the teashop. Jack’s not sure why, because it makes the cafe look like the cabin of some early twentieth century fishing ship, but it seems to charm enough customers to pay his wages and to keep Eriksson happy, and that’s all that really matters.

'That photo. It's an arctic expedition, from the 1920's. My boss – he comes from a long line of Norwegian sailors, hence the décor.' Jack says to the back of Gus' head, setting down his mug.

Gus turns.

Jack’s first impression is that he looks to be the kind of guy who takes earnest to extremes - square jaw, clear skin, a winning smile personified. He thinks that if he cut Gus open, he’d bleed jauntiness and amiable Eton humour. It’s not, he has to admit, entirely unattractive.

'Fascinating,' Gus says, and he genuinely sounds interested.

Jack clears his throat. ‘Coffee? Tea?’

'Yes! Just plan tea, thanks,' Gus says, sticking his hands in his pockets and ambling over to the counter. 'To take away?'

'That's fine,' Jack says, and busies himself with the teapot for a minute. When he surfaces, the change is on the counter and Gus is staring at him. Jack meets his gaze, and Gus blushes, but he doesn't look away. Jack feels warm, for some reason he can't quite put a name to.

'It's a wonderful place you have here,' Gus says, still looking at Jack, and he sounds entirely sincere.

Jack is entirely unprepared for moments like this; he spends most of his conversations discussing special relativity and has no idea how to respond to small talk. Or flirtation. He's confused. ‘Milk? Sugar?’ he says instead, and regrets it immediately.

'Neither,' Gus says, looking amused. Jack is both abominably embarrassed and instantly defensive: nobody else he knows cares that he can't hold a conversation outside of the seminar room, but it's still humiliating.

'Two pounds, then.' Hiding behind the till is a convenient excuse for him to shore up his courage.

'Geography,' Gus says, after a moment.

'Excuse me?' Jack looks up from the pennies drawer.

'Physical Geography, is my course. I'm Gus.' He smiles easily. 'What's your course?'

' - Theoretical Physics,' says Jack, after a beat. 'How did you know I was a student?'

'UCL badge on your mug there, plus the general aura of desperation and despondency,' Gus says, bouncing up onto his toes. 'Theoretical Physics – grand! That's a rather impressive course.'

Jack feels a heat rising to his cheeks. He ignores the compliment, but his shoulders relax a little.

'For someone who claims to know a student by their 'aura of despondency', you're pretty cheerful yourself.'

Gus laughs.

'Final deadline of the term is over! Consequently, I'm in a disgustingly good mood –  _so_  sorry.’

'You should be,' Jack says, handing over the change, and risks a joke. 'Nobody is allowed to be that cheery this early in the morning. Especially not when I've still got so much work.'

Gus’ hand gently presses his as he takes it. ‘I’ll endeavour to remember that for next time.’

 _Next time._ Abruptly, Jack realises he is staring, and looks away. Gus smiles, still rather red about the face, picks up his drink and begins to turn.

Jack panics. ‘Wait!’  _Shit._

Gus turns back very fast, looking very surprised. Jack’s hand is outstretched - he drops it.

'It's. Uh, it's hot. I'm supposed to warn you,' he says.

Gus smiles softly, salutes with his spare hand - not mockingly - and leaves. To his credit, Jack waits until he hears the door close before he thunks his head down onto the counter.

He is going to bury himself in the breakroom. He is literally going to lay down and die under piles of coffee and indescipherable notes. He is going to expire, and Algie is going to steal his working hours, and Eriksson is going to mutter darkly about the mess he’s left. He is going to die. 

The bell rings again. Jack shoots upright.

'I'm sorry – so sorry – I'm terrible at this - please excuse me if this is too forward, but I'd like to ask your name?' Gus says, hand on the doorframe. He's backlit by the sunrise, early morning gold bringing out the bright tints in his hair, and for a moment Jack absolutely cannot breathe.

'Miller,' he says simply. 'Jack Miller.'

'Grand. That's - grand. Be seeing you, Jack Miller,' Gus says, and then he's gone.


End file.
